


Killing Time

by wretchedhag



Series: FGO/Kinktober [5]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Masturbation, Scent Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27074539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wretchedhag/pseuds/wretchedhag
Summary: Izou is lonely while Ritsuka is away on a Rayshift, but he finds a way to abate that loneliness.
Relationships: Fujimaru Ritsuka/Okada Izou | Assassin
Series: FGO/Kinktober [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956010
Kudos: 23





	Killing Time

**Author's Note:**

> for the day 12 prompt, "scent". this ended up a bit raunchier than i had planned initially, but i suppose that's the magic of writing!

Izou doesn’t get lonely. 

That’s a lie that he tells himself, unwilling to acknowledge such weak feelings in his heart. Truthfully, Izou gets lonely easily. 

Another thing Izou won’t admit is how he gets jealous. Especially when Master chooses other Assassin Servants to accompany her on a Rayshift. Logically, he knows she chooses who to bring along based on tactics and whatnot, but he still can’t stop the pangs of jealousy that shoot through him when he gets benched. 

This is one of those times when Master didn’t take him with her on the Rayshift, and needless to say, Izou is slightly pissed off; over the past few days, his loneliness and jealousy have coupled up into a swirling frustration that doesn’t want to be dismissed. He’s tried drinking, sparring, and hanging out with the Servants he’s on friendly terms with, but none of it has helped to ease his frustration.

Izou wanders around Chaldea’s halls, scowling, and finds himself in front of Ritsuka’s room. He has a moment of hesitation but then figures, what the hell. She’s supposed to be back today—might as well wait in here as anywhere else.

Izou steps into her room and looks around, as if there’d be anyone else in there with him. There’s not, of course, and everything has the same lived-in look as always. Izou goes over to the bed and sits on the edge. 

Ritsuka has said something like this to him before as a teasing joke, but he really is like a dog waiting for its owner to come back home from work. What should he even be doing right now? Should he try rummaging around under Ritsuka’s bed to find a manga to read?

Izou flops back onto the mattress with a sigh and stares up at the ceiling. His frustration and boredom make him want to do _something_ , but he also doesn’t want to do _anything_ until Ritsuka is back. Maybe he should just sleep it off. 

Izou turns onto his side, and with his face pressed against the pillow he notices something. Even though it’s been a few days since Ritsuka slept on it, the scent of her shampoo still clings to the pillowcase. It smells like coconut and some kind of flower, and it creates a feeling of familiarity in Izou’s chest. 

Without thinking about what he’s doing, Izou reaches down for the sheet and brings it up to his nose. The smell on it is a mix of Ritsuka’s soap and her sweat, and between that and the pillowcase it’s almost like having Ritsuka there on the bed with him. Izou sighs into the sheet and squirms, getting turned on just from this. 

Izou pushes the palm of his other hand against his groin, his eyes fluttering closed. He presses against himself through his clothes and breathes in the smells of Ritsuka between the sheet and pillowcase. It isn’t nearly enough, though. 

Izou sits up and glances around the room, looking for something to help him out. Spying the door to Ritsuka’s closet, he gets an idea and heads over to it. It’s not one of Izou’s finest moments as he pulls out Ritsuka’s hamper and reaches into it, going for a piece of clothing at the bottom of the pile, but he also doesn’t care about how desperate this might be. His fingers hook around fabric and he fishes it out to see that it’s one of Ritsuka’s panties. Perfect.

He lays back down on her bed, and his hands tremble slightly as he brings her underwear up to his nose. The smell on this is more pronounced than either the sheet or the pillowcase; there’s the salty tang of sweat but stronger is Ritsuka’s unique, earthy scent that Izou has become so intimately familiar with. In response, Izou’s cock twitches within the confines of his clothing. 

Izou fumbles with his hakama in his haste and kicks it off, then quickly pulls aside the rest of his layers so that he can touch himself. He strokes himself to full hardness with his nose pressed into the center of Ritsuka’s panties, breathing her in. Izou tilts his head back against the pillow and closes his eyes again.

“ _Aah_ , Ritsuka…” Izou moans.

Precum begins to bead at his slit, and Izou’s cock becomes slick with it as his hand works. Drool dribbles down his lips, and with his mouth open like this an obscene idea comes to Izou’s mind. He sticks his tongue out flat and presses Ritsuka’s underwear against it before beginning to suck; all he can really taste is the cotton fabric, but it doesn’t make him slow down or stop.

Izou turns his head against the pillow and imagines he’s pressing his nose against Ritsuka’s neck and soft hair as he picks up the smell of her shampoo again. His hand is working faster now, and he bucks his hips into the air as he chases his own release. When Izou comes, his moan is muffled by the cloth in his mouth and he spills over his hand and onto his thighs. 

Izou draws Ritsuka’s panties, now thoroughly soaked by his spit, out of his mouth and sets them aside; he’ll just shove them to the bottom of her hamper, and it’ll be fine. He lay on his back, coming down from his orgasm. At the very least, he’s not frustrated anymore. 

“Looks like you missed me.” 

Izou jumps and sits up at the sound of Ritsuka’s voice, and his head whips to the side fast enough to give himself whiplash. She stands in the doorway with a hand on her hip and a grin on her lips. Izou feels his face heat up all the way to his ears in embarrassment.

“M-Master…” He stutters. “H-how long…” 

“How long was I watching? Hmm, I wonder.” She hums, intentionally coy. 

Ritsuka closes the distance between them in a few quick strides and climbs onto the bed. She clambers over Izou, her hands on either side of his hips, and brings her face close to his own. Ritsuka grinds down onto his thigh and lets Izou feel how wet she is.

“I missed you, too,” she says, her voice low and promising. 


End file.
